A Memorial Epitaph to Brian Jacques
by Elite Warrior
Summary: Brian Jacques. Born June 15th, 1939. Died February 5th, 2011. Author of one of the best book series ever written. Now, on the 4th anniversary of his death, one of his fans stops to morn for him and celebrate his life.


A Memorial Epitaph to Brian Jacques

**I owe this man my life, in a way. If not for his works, I would have never learned how amazing books are. This was originally composed on Nov. 9th, 2012. Hope you enjoy. (Can't get this thing to space right. Had to go with lines.)**

Some years ago, when I was younger,

I cared not for book-bound wonder.

I had no interest, or desire,

Till one author lit the fire.

* * *

Now in books I find my solace,

That take me from this time and place,

And transport me to greater worlds,

All by the power held in words.

* * *

Alas! Alack! That great master of art,

Who to my mind first set the spark,

His bark has pushed off from this earth's shore.

He has sailed away and is no more.

* * *

His tales are treasures he did not horde,

But freely opened up his store.

To all the world he sent this feast.

And now we morn. He is deceased.

* * *

In his works we find great wonder.

Of tales told without a blunder.

Humor, heroism, adventure for all!

All wrapped in these words: 'A Tale of Redwall'.

* * *

Tolkien and Lewis I would not have read,

Had Redwall not shone its light in my head.

These tales like no other, the wonder they hold,

I would not give up, no mater the gold!

* * *

From the Great West Coast we journey on,

Till we come to the fortress Salamandastron.

This Mountain of Hares and mighty Badger Lords,

Protects the lands east from pirates and hordes.

* * *

Then to the lush forests and woods of Mossflower.

From bullies and thieves you wont have to cower,

If you follow the path to a building tall.

You've arrived at the legend: The Abbey of Redwall.

* * *

Come Badgers and Hares, Shrews, Mice and Moles.

Come Otters and Hedgehogs, Squirrels and Bank Voles.

We'll tell you of stories. Hush now and harken!

Of a Mouse brave and true: The Warrior Martin.

* * *

Of Foxes and Ferrets, Stoats, Weasels, Rats,

Of Serpents, Pine Martens, and fierce Wild Cats.

And Tyrants and Slavers, Assassins and Scourges,

Of Emperors and Foxwolves, who all met their dirges.

* * *

Of treachery, friendship and loyalty true.

Of quests and of riddles. And of feasting to!

Of dreams and of monsters, of foe-beast and friend,

And how, through the struggle, good wins in the end.

* * *

And so, seasons turn and the author is gone.

The young must now take up his baton.

As long as youth and fire-sides exist,

The Tradition of stories and tales _must_ persist!

* * *

Now Brian is gone, with his charm and his wit.

This world is far emptier without him in it.

But his spirit, like Martin's, will be with us always,

In the books he has left us for all of our days.

* * *

It is up to us now for our stories to write.

The word needs more like him, to bring children light.

To bring heroics and good humor into their lives,

And do what we can for the readers of our time.

* * *

So Brian, your kindling has not gone away!

My love for your stories forever will stay!

And so in your honor I utter this call:

"EULALIA! AND REDWALL!"

* * *

**So there you go. It is up to us to become the authors of our generation. And I don't mean just Fan-Fiction (This was written before I knew what Fan-Fiction was). **

**'And so, the aged recorder was laid to rest by those who loved him, and there was much weeping among the young ones for he had kept them up many a rainy night with his tales of their beloved abbey. They could still see clearly the gleam that would enter his eyes, and recall his wondrous voice as he held them captive in his spell. Now a small band of creatures, several seasons older, stood 'round the old grave-site with tears in their eyes. Then one by one they came forward, each presenting what they had composed. Some were grander then others but that mattered not. Each creature there spoke from the heart, telling him what they had done with the seeds planted so long ago. A ray of sunlight shone on the old tomb, as if the old recorder was smiling and thanking them. His legacy would not be forgotten. It would be preserved by those who came after him.**

**And while all this was going on, one could almost believe that the figure of Martin the Warrior on the Great Tapestry was smiling at the sight.'**

**-Extract of the journal of Elite Warrior, novis recorder of Redwall Abbey in Mossflower Country. Please feel free to come and visit us. Travelers are always welcome.**


End file.
